Bartley Smith tilted his head to look at the woman beside him, quietly observing her for a few seconds, as if seriously contemplating her question.
"No particular standard."
Bartley Smith withdrew his gaze from Betsy Sutton's face, then looked at a verdant pomegranate tree.
"Kind and filial will do."
Betsy Sutton was surprised and asked, "What about looks?"
Bartley Smith looked at Betsy Sutton again, his eyes lingered on her face for two seconds before moving away.
"As long as I find her pleasing to the eye."
Betsy Sutton furrowed her brows, feeling that his answer was as good as saying nothing. However, given his taste, the girls that he finds pleasing to the eye likely aren't going to be lacking in looks.
Just as she was overthinking things, Bartley Smith suddenly turned the question back on her.
"What about you? What kind do you like?"
Betsy Sutton suddenly became bashful, lowering her head to look at the ground as she began to kick the stones with her foot.
